A Whisper in the Leaves
by Analorien
Summary: A day of riding in the woods turns ugly for Elrohir. Rating for violence and themes in later chapters. Please read and let me know what you think!
1. Dark is the Night

The old elf stiffened, listening to a sound from the woods behind their small cottage. The young elf at her side closed her eyes, concentrating on the sound. "What is that, Ereniel?" she whispered, more than a little uneasy. The older elf shook her head, as if trying to dispel a bad dream. "Don't worry, child," she admonished her companion. "It's only a whisper in the leaves." But as she heard the unearthly sound again, she shivered slightly. "A mere whisper in the leaves."  
  
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The elf laughed and patted his horse. "Yes, Ylaneth, I agree. It's time to go back." The horse nickered in response and lifted his front legs slightly, a joyful dance step on the forest floor. Suddenly the horse laid his ears back along his head and whinnied in fear. The elf heard it too, and turned in the direction the sound came. Faint footfalls, and an unearthly growl. "Run, Ylaneth," he urged his mount, "quickly!" The horse needed no other encouragement, and flew quickly over the path. The footfalls sounded closer now, and came more quickly. The elf frowned and looked about him. His horse was one of the fastest in his father's stable, and it was no ordinary animal that could keep up with him. A growl sounded almost behind him, and he chanced a quick glance. His heart fell within him as he saw the beast that chased them - a warg! What brought this one here, he didn't know, and only hoped that it traveled alone. In the forest, in the growing darkness, they were no match for a pack. The elf knew he had only one chance. He balanced himself precariously on the back of his horse. "Ylaneth, go home. Get help," he whispered in the horses' ear. He heard the warg's breath behind them - it was very close now, and getting closer. "Go, Ylaneth!" the elf yelled and jumped into the trees overhead. He caught hold of the branch and the horse galloped into the night. The warg jumped at the same time the elf did and managed to snare one leg. The elf gasped as the animal's claws tried to find purchase in his leg, leaving a searing pain as the animal fell to the ground. The elf blinked, trying to clear his head. Painfully he pulled himself up to the branch and lay there, his leg throbbing where the warg had managed to hook him. The warg jumped up, growling, trying to find the prey that had managed to elude him. It sniffed the air, growling, and sat down. The elf looked down at the beast below him, hoping that it didn=t have a pack waiting for it. After a few minutes the warg decided to seek other prey, and wandered off the way it had come. The elf sighed in relief and maneuvered himself to a more comfortable position in the tree. He leaned into the trunk of the mallorn tree and surveyed his leg. It was more than a scratch, he decided, and the bleeding didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon. He tore a piece of his grey tunic and used it to bind his leg, then tore a second piece as the blood soaked the first one through. He shivered as a breeze hit the tree and hugged himself. He got as close to the tree trunk as he could, and situated himself for a long wait.  
  
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The sun rose golden, promising to lend its warmth to a new day. Elrond stood watching the glowing orb from his balcony. He sighed and turned as a servant stood a respectful distance away. "There is no word?" Elrond knew what the answer would be, but he waited for the elf's reply anyway. "No, Lord Elrond," the servant replied. "But a new band of searchers have gone out." "Thank you, Silgaedal." Elrond turned back to the balcony. "Have the stable ready my horse. I will go out myself." The servant nodded and turned to go. "May Elbereth guide you," he whispered. Elrond closed his eyes. "And protect my son," he added to himself.  
  
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	2. Bitter Dawn

Elentaari swung her bow over her back and placed her knives in their sheath at her waist. She carried a small pack under her cloak and her long hair was bound back out of her face. "Let's be careful. I know we only heard one warg, but where there's one there's a pack," reminded the old she-elf. Her hair was long and grey, shiny as silver. 

I will," promised her companion. "We're almost out of many of the plants. I shouldn't have waited this long to go gathering."

The old woman nodded, a frown on her face. "I know, child, I know. If only....." She sighed, looking down at her feet.

"None of that, now," scolded the younger elf. "It's time I learned how to fend for myself, anyhow." She caressed the elder elf's shiny hair. "I know how hard it is for you here. I know you stay only for my sake."

"That's not true!" The old elf protested. "I can go west anytime I please. I've just decided to stay for a little longer. I am my own master, and I go where and when I please, not when I'm called." She set her mouth firmly. "Now we'd better get started. The day will be over before we finish."

With a smile on her face, Elentaari followed Ereniel out the door. Elentaari stood at the edge of the porch and breathed in the fresh air. She loved the smell of the morning, all warm sun and fresh breeze. There was a faint hint of jasmine in the air, from the night-blooming jasmine planted on the side of the house. Jasmine was her favorite plant....well, at least her favorite plant today. Truth be told, she loved all the plants she gathered. She loved even more making the wonderful smelling oils and lotions that her guardian Ereniel took to the market. Her smile faded as she realized that soon it would be her job to take them to market. Ereniel wouldn't be here much longer, of that Elentaari was sure. Something about the old elf seemed to be fading, and Elentaari knew she was not long for the forest. "I'll miss you," Elentaari said to herself. But she's not gone yet, she chided herself. She turned to follow Ereniel into the forest, and started walking to the various gardens they kept. They spent the entire morning in this fashion, weeding some spots, cutting plants in others, and soon came to the last clearing where their plants were. Elentaari cut several sprigs and put them into her pack. She was turning to go when a faint noise reached them. Ereniel tensed and reached for her knives. The noise grew louder and then stopped. Elentaari put her hand on Ereniel's shoulder and motioned for her to follow. Silently they padded off the path around the clearing and came out near a small stream. The two elves looked around warily. 

"Ereniel, there is blood here." Elentaari knelt down on the path where drops of blood, now almost dried, were visible. The grass was matted down and there were warg prints around. "Perhaps it took a deer."

Ereniel shook her head. "Not enough blood." Her sharp eyes searched the pathway. "Mayhap it got away."

Elentaari looked up into the trees. In case the warg came back, there were no branches low enough for Ereniel to reach. She hurriedly searched for somewhere for Ereniel to wait while she went back to the cabin and got the horses. Finally she spied a mallorn tree that had two branches low enough (she hoped!) for Ereniel. "Ereniel," she called, "wait for me here in the trees. I'm going to get Selol and Arondu."

"No, child, I'm not staying here while you go back. We can walk back together." She started back along the path when a low moan stopped her in her tracks. The two women looked at each other in consternation. Elentaari looked up. 

"There," she whispered, pointing. They hadn't seen it before. A grey tunic-clad arm hung from a branch in the mallorn tree. Elentaari shed her pack and clamored up the tree to see. "Ereniel....it's an elf," she called down.

"I can see that from here," replied her companion. "I think this is your deer." 

Elentaari nodded. "The warg got him, alright." She looked at the elf in the tree. He was pale and shivering. "I wonder if he spent all night here." 

"Can you get him down?" Ereniel looked around warily. "We shouldn't stay here too long."

Elentaari tried to wake the elf. Gently she shook his shoulder, but to no avail. "Ereniel, if I hold him down, can you keep him upright until I get down from the tree?"

"Of course, child, I'm not without some strength yet," the she-elf huffed. Elentaari nodded and grinned. She grasped the unconscious elf under the arms and pulled him toward her. He was heavier than he looked. She pulled again and he started to slide down the tree. Ereniel grabbed his legs as he slid toward her, and held him against the trunk of the mallorn tree. Elentaari hung from the branch and jumped down. Together they laid the elf on the earth, looking at his blood-soaked legging. Ereniel handed Elentaari her waterskin. 

"Did you bring any of those little cloths you use for the tinctures?"she asked.

Elentaari nodded, digging in her pack. "I did, they're good for keeping the plants fresh." She pulled a couple from her pack and wet one with water. Gently she wiped the elf's face. It was pale, and he was warm to the touch. 

"He's got a fever," she said quietly. "Wargs have venomous claws, don't they, Ereniel?" she asked. "I've never had to heal that... what is the cure?"

Ereniel thought for a moment. "I don't know, child, I've never known anyone who was attacked by wargs and lived. We'll have to take him to the Last Homely House. The master there will heal him."

The elf stirred. "Rivendell," he breathed. Elentaari bathed his face again. 

"Are you from Rivendell?" she asked. He nodded weakly. 

"Warg," he muttered. 

"We saw," replied Ereniel. "Let's go, then. I'll get your pack, then we'll put him between us." She walked to the other side of the tree where Elentaari's pack was and picked it up, when from the bushes came a growling mass of noise and fur. The warg charged full force at Ereniel and took her to the ground. Elentaari turned and grabbed her knife, looking vainly for an opening. She yelled at the warg, trying to gain its attention.

"Here, over here!" she yelled. "Over here, warg!" The warg stopped mauling Ereniel momentarily and came toward Elentaari, growling. Elentaari waited until the warg was almost upon her and then let go her knife. The warg went down where it stood, her knife in its throat. 

Elentaari ran to Ereniel and knelt by her side. "Don't talk, Ereniel, let me get some athelas--"

Ereniel clutched Elentaari's hand. "No child. Let me go. I love you as my daughter, Elentaari." The light in her eyes dimmed momentarily and she coughed, bringing up blood. "May Elbereth guide you always, Elentaari Thranduilien." The light in her eyes faded away, and the golden glow that had always surrounded her died. 

"Ereniel," Elentaari whispered. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," the elf told her. He stood unsteadily on one leg. "I'm so sorry." Then the world went grey and he toppled to the ground. 

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	3. Decisions

Elrond's face was drawn and worried. Late afternoon on the third day and still there was no sign of his son. He came in only to change horses and was on his way back out when his daughter called to him. 

"Father..." She took his hand. "He will be fine. He is at home in the woods." 

AI know, Arwen. But my heart tells me something different this day." He looked up as riders entered the courtyard. 

"Lord Elrond," greeted one of the riders. "Arwen."

"King Thranduil," returned Elrond. "I thank you for your help."

The king of mirkwood gazed back at him. "There is no love lost between us, Elrond, but I would not have our children suffer because of it. I know you would do the same if Legolas were missing."

Elrond nodded, then turned to his daughter. "I'll be back soon. Keep watch here," he told her gently.

"Aragorn and the others will be here shortly," she said. "We'll find him, Father."

Elrond mounted his horse. "Let us go, Thranduil." The two elven lords turned their horses and left the courtyard, followed by the small band of elves that had come with Thranduil.

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Elentaari glanced over at the wounded elf. She had tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Moving like that had taken all of his energy, and he was still, much too still for her liking. Worse, he had started his leg bleeding again. She tore more pieces from his tunic and bound the wound, after she had washed it. The only thing she had to use medicine was athelas; she thought about going back to the cabin for medicine, then decided against it. She used what athelas she had, chewing it to release the juice and then wrapped it to his leg. He was still unconscious, his face pale and his skin warm. His eyes were closed, his sleep not a natural sleep, but rather a dark void of unconsciousness. She sighed deeply, dreading her next task. She wanted to get the elf to Rivendell, to the healer there, but she was loathe to leave Ereniel's body to be mauled even further by the warg. Finally she decided to lay her friend in the lower tree branches until she could come back to give her the honor in death she deserved. She took Ereniel's cloak and wrapped the still body in it, then lifted it gently to the first branches on the mallorn tree. Elentaari scrambled up beside it and then painstakingly moved it to another, still higher branch. She wanted to make sure the body would suffer no dishonor before she could come back. "I'm sorry, Eneriel," she whispered, tears running down her face. "I'm sorry to leave you. But I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." She wiped her eyes and made her way back down the tree to where the elf lay. His fever hadn't gone down any that she could see, but neither had it gone up. He looked so tired - Elentaari hated to disturb him, but there was no way she could carry him by herself. 

"Wake up," she said, shaking him gently. "Please, wake up."

The elf groaned and tried to sit up with a start. 

"Careful," cautioned Elentaari, helping him sit up. "It's all right. You're safe now." For a while anyway, she thought to herself. She felt his forehead gently. A little cooler, she thought hopefully. 

"Who are you?" the elf asked. "Your friend -" He stopped and shivered. "Cold," he whispered. 

"My name is Elentaari," the she-elf answered him shortly. "Let's get you up now. Can you walk at all?" She stood up and helped him to his feet. It was going to be hard going, she thought. It looked like he couldn't put any weight on his injured leg. She looked at him critically. He was pale and his face was drawn with pain. He had to get to Rivendell quickly, or..... she pushed the thought away. "What are you called?" she asked him.

"El-" he began, and his face contorted with a spasm of pain. He clutched her arm tightly. 

"Breathe," she instructed him. "Breathe through the pain in your leg." He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on hers as she mirrored his breathing. Finally he relaxed his grip on her arm. 

"Sorry," he whispered. 

"It's all right," she told him, trying to keep him occupied. "What is your name?"

"Elrohir." He took a ragged breath. "I am Elrohir of Imladris."  
  



	4. Rescued.....?

A/N To my one faithful reader, Arabella Thorne: Thank you so much for encouraging me with this story. I can't tell you how it feels to read your reviews. I only hope that this will meet your expectations. Email me if you have any suggestions - I'd love to hear from you!  
  


I also realized I haven't put a disclaimer on this yet...so here goes: This is a fan-fiction written solely for enjoyment (mostly mine, in writing it!) and not for financial gain. The characters are for the most part the creation of JRR Tolkien. A few characters are my own creation, and they can be rented out for a small fee.....  
  


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Gimli grumbled under his breath from his seat behind Legolas. "It seems I spend an inordinate amount of time being baggage." He looked around to see if anyone took pity on his plight, but no one looked at him. 

"Gimli," said the elf in front of him, "you are not baggage." His eyes crinkled in mirth and he looked at the ranger riding beside him. "I would never let Selaeya carry baggage."

Aragorn hid a grin as the dwarf began to sputter in outrage. "Peace, friend Gimli," he said with a chuckle. "You are more than welcome to ride with me, if you wish. But I assure you, as far as horses go, Selaeya has the smoother gait. I think you will find your time on him more pleasant. 

"You are probably right, Aragorn. But I know that this horse despises me." Gimli sighed and re-adjusted himself on the seat. "I think one of these days - "

"Look!" Legolas interrupted, pointing at the meadow that opened before them. "Wargs are attacking something."

"It looks like two figures against the pack, does it not Legolas?" asked Aragorn, pulling his sword. "They need help." 

"Then let us help them," said Gimli, eagerly pulling his axe. "My axe has not tasted warg-blood for many a day."

"It is indeed two," replied Legolas. "But one of them appears to be injured." Even as he spoke a figure fell to the ground. The three riders sped down the slope to the figures below when Legolas spoke again. 

"More riders approach!" he exclaimed. "Look, it is Lord Elrond and -" he stopped in amazement. "It is my father. I wonder what he is doing?" 

"Perhaps they saw the wargs and were following them," said Aragorn. "Hurry!" 

Legolas spurred his horse faster. They were but a short distance away when he slowed, letting Gimli jump to the ground. He rode closer to the melee, then let his arrows ring. The wargs, sensing this new danger, began to growl and attack their prey more ferociously. Gimli gave a yell and felled one of the creatures with a mighty blow of his axe. Aragorn was no slacker either, taking down several of the creatures with his sword. 

They advanced slowly toward the two figures in the center. It looked like the wargs were backing off when one of the attackers jumped. With a mighty growl it swiped at Elentaari, who barely managed to turn away. The creature caught her on the shoulder, tearing cloth and skin. Bravely she stood her ground over Elrohir, swinging her knife aggressively. One more warg fell to her knife, and another took its place. One came at her with a bound, and she stood steadily to meet it, but no deadly weight came at her. She blinked, and the warg was dead in front of her, an arrow in its side. She looked up as riders came from the side and front. Her knife fell to the ground as she dropped to her knees. 

"Who are you?" asked one elf on a black horse. "Where do you come from?" He looked sternly at her, his eyes full of hate. She looked at the other elf who had jumped from his horse and ran to them. 

"Elrohir!" the elf called. He knelt down beside the fallen elf and gently touched his face.

"Please," said Elentaari shakily, "he must see the healer at the last homely house. It's his only chance. Ereniel said the master of the last homely house could heal him." She swayed dizzily. "I found him in a tree. A warg got him, and we were bringing him here. Please help him!" She looked at the elf beside her and then her eyes closed. Elentaari gave in to the darkness and knew no more.

Elrond mounted his horse. "Aragorn, hand him to me," he commanded. Aragorn gently lifted Elrohir to Elrond's arms. "I'll meet you back at the house." He turned his horse and sped off, his son in his arms. 

"I will take care of her," said the elf with the stern eyes. "If you wish, you may go with Elrond." He looked at Legolas. "I would speak with you, Legolas."

Legolas nodded. "I will help you with her, then, Father," he replied. Legolas looked at Aragorn and Gimli. "Follow Elrond, Aragorn, Gimli. I will follow behind shortly."

Aragorn looked at Legolas. "Are you sure, Legolas?" He spoke quietly, knowing there was little love between father and son. Gimli looked on with interest, then reached up to grab Aragorn's arm. Swiftly he was pulled up sit behind Aragorn.

"I will follow shortly. Elrond will need you," Legolas replied. He moved his horse closer to his father.

"We will wait for you in Rivendell, Legolas." Gimlli waved from his new perch behind Aragorn. Legolas watched as they rode from view. 

"Father, I am surprised to see you here."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Elrond sent a messenger asking for help to look for his son. I am no friend of Elrond's but I know that he would help me with such a task. I could do no less." He looked at the figure laying on the ground. "Give me your bow, Legolas."

Legolas followed his father's eyes. "What do you need with my bow? She is not a threat."

"Nor shall she become one," his father replied tautly. "Not today, not ever."

"Father, I do not understand. Why should she become a threat?" Legolas was confused. 

"Give me your bow, Legolas." His father ignored his question. 

"No, Father. This is not right." He positioned his horse in front of the she-elf. "She has done no harm - indeed, she saved Elrohir. This is enough to win my gratitude."

"Do not defy me, Legolas," his father warned. Thranduil's face was dark with anger. "There are things here that you do not understand, nay, that you know naught of."

"Then explain them to me, Father," the elf retorted. "She is under my care, Sire. As she protected Elrohir, I will now protect her." He placed his hand meaningfully on the hilt of his knife. 

Thranduil glared at his son. "So be it. But she is now your responsibility. I hope you do not live to regret this decision." He turned his horse around wrathfully. "Tell Lord Elrond I have returned to Mirkwood, and I am glad his son is safe." Thranduil sped off without a backward glance.

Legolas looked at his father's retreating form in consternation, then down at the she-elf. He jumped lightly from his horse and went to her, his mind whirling with questions. First though, he needed to get her to Elrond. 


	5. Questions

Elrond shut the door to his son's room quietly. The danger was passed, thank Elbereth! His son was sleeping peacefully, his brother Elladan watching over him. The elf lord sighed and turned to go down the hall when a servant approached him rapidly.

"Lord Elrond," the servant called, "milord!"

Elrond turned tiredly. "What is it?"

"Prince Legolas bids you come, milord. The she-elf is injured as well." The servant bid his master follow him down the hall to where Legolas was waiting with Elentaari. As Elrond entered the room, Legolas turned with his hand on the hilt of his knife. When he saw it was Elrond he relaxed and released his knife. The elven lord said nothing, but raised his eyebrow as he glanced at Legolas.

"Lord Elrond," he bowed respectfully. He watched as Elrond began to assess the she-elf's injuries. 

Elrond turned to the servant. "Please bring me the same herbs as I used with Elrohir," he said. "They are by his bedside. I believe there are sufficient there for her." He thought for a moment, then added, "Also bring me the mortar and pestle, and warm water." The servant nodded and hurried off, bringing back several small bags filled with plants, and a container with water. He left the room again and soon returned with the mortar and pestle. Elrond crushed the plants together and added some water to the mixture, then began to grind it into a paste. When the paste reached the consistency he wanted, he took some on his fingers and began to smear it on the long welts left by the warg's claws. He did this until all the wounds were covered with the paste, then bandaged her shoulder and arm. Elrond glanced up at Legolas. "Where is your father, Legolas?" he asked the young prince. He noticed Legolas' eyes harden and his mouth set firmly. 

"My father bade me tell you that he has returned to Mirkwood, and that he is glad for the safe return of Elrohir," Legolas told the elf lord. Legolas looked at Elrond, not knowing how to explain the confrontation he had with Thranduil. "Lord Elrond," he began, "I think my father knows this elf." A frown furrowed his brow. "But I do not know her name."

"Her name," came a voice from the doorway, "is Elentaari."


	6. A Welcome Visitor

Gandalf took off his hat and sat down on the chair. He smiled his thanks at the servant who brought him a cup of steaming tea. "Famous is the hospitality of Lord Elrond," he said. He took a sip of the tea and savored it. "Nectar, as always." He took another sip of his tea, then turned as a commotion was heard in the hallway. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were walking into the room, accompanied by Elladan, who had finally left his brother's side to get something to eat.   
  


"Gandalf!" exclaimed Gimli. "How good it is to see you again!" He clasped the wizard in a bearhug, then sat down beside him.   
  


"Master Dwarf, I am pleased to see you again as well," replied Gandalf. "And you, Aragorn, and Legolas." He embraced them as they took their seats.  
  


"Mithrandir," Elladan stood before the wizard. "I am happy to see you."  
  


Gandalf looked at Elladan, seeing the dark circles under his eyes. "And I you," he said. He pulled the elf into a hug, clapping him on the back. "Don't worry, Elladan. He will be back to himself before you know it."  
  


Elladan sat down beside his friends and his father. "I hope so, Mithrandir. I do not like to see him like this."  
  


Aragorn nodded. "I agree. But Elrohir is strong, and soon he will be among us again."

Servants started to bring food, and soon the conversation was punctuated with laughter as the meal continued.  
  
  
  
  
  


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Elrohir stirred. A cool cloth was on his forehead and a blanket had been pulled up over him. He moved slightly, and gave a small moan when he tried to move his leg. He blinked and tried to clear his head. A movement beside him made him turn his head slightly, and he saw his father move toward him. "Ada," he murmured.

"Shh, my son," his father said quietly. "Rest. You are home." 

Elrohir closed his eyes, feeling the safety of his own bed in his own room. He could hear his father speaking softly to someone, and then the cloth on his forehead was replaced, and gentle hands bathed his face. His breathing slowed and soon became the regular, even breathing of sleep.

**

Elrond left Elrohir's door ajar as he joined the others on the balcony near his son's room. 

"You are always welcome here, Mithrandir," replied Lord Elrond with a smile. "I am glad to see you again, my friend." He gazed at the wizard curiously. "I am wondering, though, what brings you here. It seems you have come with a purpose." 

Gandalf nodded. "That I have, Elrond. Although I believe I am a little late." He looked at the group before him. 

"What is this mystery, Legolas, you spoke earlier?" The elf lord looked at the prince of Mirkwood. "Why do you think your father knows this elf?"


	7. Answers?

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you!! To all of you who've taken the time to review, especially Arabella Thorne, who has been with me since the beginning. It really is an encouragement to me. And to those of you who haven't already checked out some of Arabella's work - WHY NOT??? It is well-written and very good. Of course, I'm biased, because she writes about my favorite characters, but after you read and review here, search on her name (Arabella Thorne) and take a peek. 

Yes, there are a lot of unanswered questions... I think they will be answered as the story unfolds (I hope). I also know that already the story is taking off in directions I hadn't considered before, but you know how those elves can be! Always have to have their own way. 

Kyrthira Phelan, I didn't know that 'elentari' is another name for Varda - I got her name from an elvish name generator. 

And now, on with the story...........

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Legolas looked down, at a loss for words. "When I stayed behind to speak with him, Lord Elrond, he did not mean to care for her." His voice trailed off.   
  


"What do you mean, Legolas?" Aragorn looked concerned. "What reason would he have?"  
  


"I do not know, Aragorn," replied the young elf. "He said there things that I knew naught of, much less understood."  
  


"He spoke the truth, Legolas," said Gandalf. All eyes turned to the wizard, who had remained silent up to this point.   
  


"Do you know who she is, Gandalf?" asked Aragorn.  
  


Gandalf nodded silently. "Yes, my friends. I know who she is." The old wizard sighed, knowing the tale he would tell would cause as many questions as it would answer.   
  


"Then tell us, Gandalf," exclaimed Gimli. "What are you waiting for?"  
  


"Indeed, Gandalf," agreed Elrond, looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Although I do not wish to cause any pain, I think the time has come for the truth."  
  


"You are right, Elrond." The wizard nodded and took his pipe from one of his innumerable pockets. "Although this truth should have been told many years ago, the telling of it is none the easier for its age." He finished puttering with his pipe and lit it, making small puffs of smoke come from the bowl. "This truth, like many truths, is hard to bear," he began. "It involves many people and many lives over the years." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I know that Lord Elrond knows bits and pieces of this tale, and that he has kept silent because it was asked of him to do so."  
  


Elrond nodded. "I will be glad to be able to drop the veil of secrecy," he said.   
  


"I am glad, too," admitted Gandalf. "Legolas, I am afraid the tale is mostly of your father's doing." He searched the elf's eyes. "Are you able to bear this?"  
  


Legolas returned his gaze steadily. "The exploits of my father are well known, Mithrandir," he said quietly. "I care not what the people say, and you here who are my friends - " he looked around, "I do not fear that you will judge the son by the father's actions." He dropped his gaze and said in a voice so low they had to strain to hear him, "But if it be in my power to set something aright, by Elbereth I swear to do it."   


Gandalf smiled at the prince. "I expected no less from you, Legolas, son of Kaeryl." He looked up at Gimli. "Patience, Gimli, I am coming to the tale. I can see you are anxious." He closed his eyes as if he were watching the scenes unfold before his eyes. "Many years ago, as you well know, Thranduil imprisoned the dwarf lord Gloin and his party in his dungeons. Legolas was at Rivendell at the time, I believe, with his mother." He looked at Elrond for confirmation, who nodded. "The dwarfs escaped after a time, and returned to the mines. That is one of the reasons the dwarves have no love for the elves. The other reasons are too long and complex to go into here." Gandalf took a deep breath. "Thranduil was once a kind man and loving father. Eventually, though, his love for wine and treasure became second only to his love of power. Kaeryl, Legolas' mother, was aware of these changes in her husband. That is why she took Legolas to Rivendell or Lothlorien as often as she could."  
  


"Your mother was a great lady," said Elrond, a misty look in his eyes. "We often talked of letting you grow up in Rivendell, but she decided that your home was Mirkwood, and you should not be driven from your home like that. She knew that all of Rivendell was at her service if ever she needed us."  
  


"Thank you, Lord Elrond," replied Legolas. "My mother always spoke of you in high esteem. I know that she was grateful for your help."   
  


"Well," continued Gandalf, "Legolas and Kaeryl were in Rivendell when Thranduil imprisoned the dwarves. One night, however, a trusted servant from Mirkwood came, bringing this bit of disturbing news. Kaeryl left Legolas in the care of Lord Elrond and returned with the servant to Mirkwood. She watched carefully, gathering information about where the dwarves were imprisoned in the many dungeons of the castle. Finally, on one evening, after Thranduil had passed out from drinking, she went to the dungeons to see the dwarves. She made sure that Gloin and his party were fed and cared for, and promised them she would help them leave." He puffed on his pipe. 

"My father spoke of her," said Gimli in amazement, "but he never said she was the queen of Mirkwood!" He looked at Legolas. "The lady of the wood will forever hold first place in my heart," he said, "but the lady Kaeryl is nonetheless a bright star in the night of hate." Legolas merely nodded, trying to remember events that Gandalf spoke of.  
  


"She did all that she could," continued Gandalf, "but there was one dwarf that she knew naught of. Thranduil had hidden this dwarf from any eyes that might pry. This dwarf was Regeli, daughter of Gloin." He closed his eyes and opened them again. "There are many reasons, perhaps, for what Thranduil did. None of them are sufficient, however. He hurt many people with his actions, not the least of whom were his wife and his son." He paused, then spoke once more. "Regeli was hurt also," he said softly. "She was abused and violated in the worst possible way. Kaeryl discovered Regeli after Gloin told her that his daughter was not among the dwarves in the dungeons. She knew of Thranduil's secret hiding places, and found her, crying and dispirited, despairing of ever seeing her father or home again. Kaeryl tended to Regeli's wounds, and the next night she helped them escape. No one knows the price that Kaeryl paid for her actions, for she was silent, and Thranduil certainly wasn't going to tell anyone."   
  


The group was silent for a moment, then Legolas said quietly, "Go on, Mithrandir, please." His eyes pleaded with the wizard to continue speaking.  
  


"After a time, Kaeryl returned to Legolas and Rivendell. They returned to Mirkwood for a time, and all was well, or seemed to be. But one night, late in the evening, a small party of dwarves rode to see Thranduil. No one knew what they wanted, and in the morning they were gone, on their way back to the mines. The next morning, Kaeryl and Legolas left for Rivendell, where they stayed until Kaeryl died of grief."  
"I remember that night," whispered Legolas. "The dwarves and my father argued. Over what, I do not know…I only know that my mother was not the same after that night." Gandalf smiled sadly at him.  
  


"Your mother was a strong elf, Legolas. She would be very proud of your actions this day," Elrond told the young prince. "You are your mother's son, also, Legolas. It is she who has molded you. She tried to be an example for you in every way."  
  


"Your mother left Mirkwood, Legolas, and brought you to Rivendell, because she could no longer hide her disgust at what Thranduil had become. The dwarves that visited that night had brought a small bundle, wrapped in a blanket. What was not known when Regeli left Mirkwood but became apparent when they reached the mountains was that she was with child. The birth was hard and labored, and after delivering a girl child, Regeli died. The dwarves did not bring this child to Thranduil to punish her, for they value all children. And after all, she was half-dwarf. One of their own. They brought her to Thranduil because the child was totally elven in appearance. They did not want her to feel out of place because of the way she looked. They thought she would have a better chance if she were among people who at least shared her appearance. Her hair and eyes were dark, and her hands were long and slender. But the most noticeable thing about her were her long, pointy ears." He looked at Legolas and folded his hands. "Elentaari is your sister."


	8. Peace, for a time

Elentaari lay still with her eyes shut, listening to the sounds around her. She could hear the slight rustling of curtains as the breeze came in through the open windows, and birds chirping in the trees outside. The scent of flowers and athelas came mixed to her senses, and she felt a soft bed beneath her. She turned her head to oneside and an old she-elf gazed at her with concern.

"Ereniel!" Elentaari struggled to sit up, but the healer's gentle hands pushed her back down.   
  


"Shh, little one, you are safe here," the healer told her. The old elf grasped a cup of water and helped Elentaari drink it slowly. "Your wounds are minor," the healer told her. "You are in the house of Lord Elrond, and if you need anything, you have but to let us know."   
  


Elentaari looked at the healer in desperation. "Please, I have to go to Ereniel!" She tried to get out of the bed, but the healer gently pushed her back. "Please, my lady," she pleaded, "I have to go help her!" The healer looked at her and nodded.   
  


"I will tell Lord Elrond," she said. "Please rest until I come back." She smiled at the impatience of her patient. "I will hurry, I promise." The healer moved off swiftly and Elentaari laid back on the bed. She looked up as someone approached, thinking to herself that the healer had been very quick.  
  


"Elrohir?" she asked in amazement. The elf before her didn't look like he'd been in a fight with a warg - there was no sign of the damage the warg had inflicted. She looked at him in confusion when he began to laugh quietly.  
  


"No, my lady," he said with an easy smile, "I am not Elrohir. I am Elladan, his twin." He looked at the young elf laying on the bed in front of him.  
  


"You are the sons of the lord of this house, yes?" she asked him.  
  


"Yes, Elrond is our father." He smiled. "Welcome to our house." His grin faltered. "I owe you my gratitude for returning my brother to us." Elentaari blushed. 

"There are no thanks necessary, my lord," she said formally. "I am glad that he is well." She looked up worriedly. "He is well, isn't he?"   
  


"Yes, he will be fine. Father said he will sleep until tomorrow, but he will be fine." The relief he felt was evident in his voice. "I came to see if you were awake," he told her. "How do you feel?"  
  


"I am fine," she said, "but I must go now." She tried to rise from the bed but swayed when a wave of dizziness assailed her. Strong arms caught her and helped her sit back down on the bed.  
  


"Lenoriel told me you were resting," came a new voice from her side. Elentaari looked up to see Elrond standing before her.   
  


"My lord," she stammered, trying to rise to her feet. Elladan gently helped her up and she bowed before the elven lord. "Lord Elrond," she began again, "I am in your debt. Thank you for all you have done for me." She swallowed back her tears as she thought of Ereniel. "I must go, my lord, I have to go to Ereniel."  
  


Elrond looked at her worriedly. "You are in no condition to ride, I'm afraid," he told her. "I will send someone for her, if you wish," he said. "Is she injured? Will she be able to ride?"  
  


Elentaari hung her head. "She is beyond injury," she whispered. "We were on our way to bring your son to you, when a warg attacked us. She is dead," Elentaari continued tonelessly. "I did not want to leave her body to be defiled, my lord, but I could not stay to tend to her. I was afraid to tarry longer for fear of worsening the injury your son had received. I put her body in her cloak and entrusted it to the mallorn tree that is in our last garden," Elentaari said. "The tree was her favorite and I know that she would wait …. She would not feel as lonely there," she finished quietly.   
  


Elrond listened to her speak in silence. "Put your mind at rest, my dear. I will take care of this at once." And so saying, he turned to a servant and spoke in a low voice.   
  


"It shall be done, my lord," said the servant and left to take careof his lord's instructions.   
  


"Now, you should rest," admonished the elven lord. "Elladan, would you like to have dinner with our guest? I am sure she will appreciate the company." He smiled fondly at his son.  
  


"Yes, Father, I was going to ask her if she was hungry." Elladan smiled at Elentaari. "If you don't mind eating dinner with me, that is."


	9. First Meeting

Legolas looked at Gandalf in shock. "Sister?" he whispered. He turned wide eyes to Gimli, who also looked stunned. 

  
  


"Yes, Legolas," said Gandalf with a chuckle, "your sister. And you," he said, turning to Gimli, "you have a niece." The company watched as Gimli blinked several times. 

  
  


"I was gone when all this happened," he said finally. "I was with a scouting party. I knew that Thranduil had taken my father prisoner, and that they had escaped. For all of these years, I thought that Regeli died of the injuries she sustained. I never knew she had a child." He turned to Legolas. "A niece, master elf. I have a niece." They looked up as Elrond entered the room. 

  
  


"And she is awake." Gandalf smiled widely at Elrond upon hearing the news.

  
  


"Good. How is she?" He put more pipeweed in his pipe and lit it, taking a long puff. 

  
  


"She will be fine. Elladan is with her now. I think he is trying to talk her into eating something." 

  
  


"Lord Elrond," began Legolas hesitantly, "do you think she would like to eat here on the balcony with us?" He looked at Gandalf. "Mithrandir, do you think it would be all right?" 

  
  


"What say you, Elrond?" Gandalf asked the elf lord. "I did not think her injuries so severe as to prohibit visitors." Elrond nodded slowly. 

  
  


"That is true, Mithrandir, but she has suffered a graver injury today. Her friend, Ereniel, was slain by the warg. She is feeling that loss, and I would be loathe to put more upon her than she can bear." 

  
  


Gimli jumped up. "Then she needs to be with us, Elrond. She needs our support!" He looked at Legolas. "Do you not agree, Legolas?" A voice spoke up from beside Gandalf. 

  
  


"Elrond, I think Gimli has a point. And if we eat here on the balcony, she can retire when she chooses." Aragorn looked at his foster father. "Do you not think knowing she is not alone will make her feel better?" 

  
  


Elrond looked at the circle of faces waiting for his answer. He nodded slowly. "Very well. I will have Elladan bring her here." He held up his hand in caution and told them sternly, "but remember that while we know each other very well, we are new to her. I do not want you to upset her." He smiled then and added, "She is strong-spirited. I am sure you will do much to help her." "I will have the servants prepare the table and let them know we'll be eating here."

  
  


Aragorn nodded. "If you see Arwen, could you let her know also?" He hadn't seen his wife all afternoon and wondered where she was. 

  
  


"Let me know what?" A hand reached for his and lips softly brushed the top of his head. "Are you keeping secrets again?" 

  
  


"No, Arwen, I have long since learned the folly of that," he said with a grin. "We are going to eat here on the balcony. It is a celebration of sorts." He looked into her clear blue eyes, eyes so deep it was easy to get lost in them. 

  
  


"What are celebrating?" She sat down beside him and looked at the group around the table.

  
  


"Lady Arwen, we are celebrating because the lost has been found!" exclaimed Gimli. "And would have been found sooner, if only someone had told me she was lost in the first place!" 

  
  


Arwen chuckled. "I cannot remember when I have seen you so animated, master Gimli. What is the cause of this excitement?" 

  
  


"I am an uncle," he told her proudly. "My sister, Regeli's child. I am meeting her for the first time." 

"My congratulations, Gimli," Arwen replied warmly. "When does she arrive?" 

  
  


"She is already here, my love," said Aragorn. "The she-elf that so valiantly defended Elrohir is the niece of whom Gimli speaks." 

  
  


Arwen looked at Aragorn, then turned to look at Gimli. "She-elf? But...." Her voice trailed off in confusion. "I do not understand." She looked from one to another for help. 

  
  


"Arwen, do not be troubled, for indeed it is hard to understand," said a quiet voice. "She is half-elven. I am not proud to say that my father was the cause of her birth, but I am proud to say that she is my sister. I will leave the telling to Aragorn, but I too am anxious to meet her." Legolas looked nervous, but excited at the same time. 

  
  


"Yes, Arwen, I will indeed fill in the details," Aragorn whispered, "but for now let us enjoy her company." He nodded toward the group approaching the table. 

  
  


"My friends," began Elrond, "I present to you Elentaari." He began to go around the table to introduce them, one by one, starting with Arwen. "This is my daughter, Arwen. She is married to Aragorn." 

  
  


"Thank you for the life of my brother," said Arwen warmly. "Perhaps when your injuries are healed you will come to Gondor to see me." 

  
  


"Yes, Elentaari," said Aragorn. "And I also thank you for the life of my brother." He grinned at the look of confusion in her eyes as she looked first to Arwen, then to him. "Elrond is my foster father. I grew up here in Imladris, and the twins were as brothers to me." 

  
  


"Thank you, my lady," Elentaari bowed her head, "my lord." She looked at Arwen with a small smile. "I will visit you one day, for I have never been to Gondor." 

  
  


"This is Master Gimli, son of Gloin," said Elrond quietly as they came next to Gimli. Elentaari went to one knee before him. 

  
  


"I am at your service, my lord, and at your family's," she said, her head bowed. Gimli took her hand and helped her stand. 

  
  


"And I at yours, sister daughter," he said in a voice fraught with emotion. "I look forward to spending more time with you. We have much to discuss."

  
  


"Thank you, my lord. I too welcome such times." Elentaari was aware of the blush on her face. Elrond took her arm and they came to the last person setting at the table. 

  
  


"Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood," said Elrond. Elentaari sank to her knees and bowed her head. 

  
  


"I am pledged to your service," she said quietly, speaking an old Elvish vow of fealty. "In life or death will your vassal serve thee." All eyes turned to Legolas, who stood motionless, looking down at the elf before him. There was silence, and then Legolas spoke. 

  
  


"Then I would ask that you rise, Elentaari Thranduilien, not as my vassal, but as my sister and friend." He knelt beside her and took her hand in his. "Do not kneel before me, but stand at my side." He helped her to rise, feeling the shaking of her hand. "Why do you tremble?" he whispered. "I am not to be feared." 

  
  


Elentaari closed her eyes. "Long have I desired this meeting," she said quietly, "yet long have I feared it." 

  
  


"Feared it?" Legolas looked at Elrond with concern. "I do not understand..." 

  
  


"I have long heard of a brother, known only to me by name, my liege. I know that my heart has been desirous of seeking thee. I know not what your will has been toward me." 

  
  


Legolas smiled. "I have only discovered this very day that such a one as Elentaari exists. But I am happy to have this knowledge. I too desire more knowledge of you. Will you sit with us and dine now?" He helped her sit down and soon the small group was talking contentedly, the clank of glasses and silverware punctuating the laughter. 


End file.
